


Unfinished

by MoonRiver



Series: Reggie's Story- Reggie fics by MoonRiver [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Family Reunions, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Reggie Angst (Julie and The Phantoms), Willie is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonRiver/pseuds/MoonRiver
Summary: “Reggie, as far as your unfinished business goes…your whole life was unfinished business…you were seventeen.”The band knew Reggie's parents fought, a lot, but there was so much more he never told them. When he died he thought he could just leave that in the past, until he ran into his dead father- as a ghost!- at a gig. Everything rushes back to him after the ghost reunion, all of the pain, and he gets some help processing it all from an unlikely source.
Series: Reggie's Story- Reggie fics by MoonRiver [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056923
Comments: 15
Kudos: 127





	Unfinished

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a LONG time since I've posted any fanfic, but I have absolutely adored the JATP fandom...especially Reggie fics! I thought I'd give writing a shot again :) I must say...it's been years!

The two weeks following the show at the Orpheum had been the best weeks of Reggie’ existence. Immediately after the gig the band received countless offers for more gigs, leading Flynn to take over as acting manager. The boys felt free, without the weight of Caleb’s curse on them. As the days went by the more they played the stronger they felt; it was like all they had been dreaming of all these years was finally coming to be. Julie was an overnight sensation, suddenly landing herself with thousands and thousands of…Insta…whatever it was called fans. Their weekends were even booked for three months out.

During one such Saturday night gig, Reggie felt like he was living on an absolute high. He was positively beaming throughout the set, having to remind himself to put on a “serious” face during their anthems and slow songs. The crowd roared as they finished “Stand Tall”, which had become their default closing number by popular demand. Even though he knew they’d pop out of existence to the audience as soon as they finished, he was learning more and more to ride out the applause, the cheers. It just felt so _electric_ as he scanned the crowd of actual living human beings, jumping up and down and screaming for them.

…until his eyes landed on one familiar face. A weathered looking man in his 40s, wearing an outdated denim jacket and t-shirt belonging to a factory company Reggie remembered all too well. Though his heart no longer beat he felt a pull in his chest, and when the band disappeared instead of going back to the studio he popped outside to the back alley of the club. He couldn’t sweat but he felt sweaty; he felt _cold_.

All this time Reggie and Alex had carefully ignored the reality that somewhere, there family was out there. Alex didn’t want anything to do with his, still taking his father’s telling him to “just leave” all too seriously. Reggie knew he was just delaying the inevitable by avoiding his, in full denial that he would eventually want to know what happened and find his folks, for better or for worse.

But as the man from the club suddenly popped into reality in front of him, his eyes widened in the horrific realization that he never considered he might find his parents _dead_.

“Dad?”

The elder man stood before him, but much like Reggie he didn’t look like he had changed at all since the 1990s. The air grew even colder, and on instinct Reggie shuddered.

“I know I don’t deserve any of your time,” his father spoke up quietly. His voice was shaking; Reggie was shaking. The last time he had seen his father alive…he didn’t even want to think about it. “Please…”

He really didn’t want to. He really wanted to run back to Julie’s. He wanted to run out of LA, go somewhere far, hide from all of this. But he knew he’d always want to know. Now was his chance.

Reggie nodded.

“The old place then?” Reggie suggested, and his father nodded too.

Trusting his dad understood, Reggie transported himself down the shore from where his childhood home turned bike shop was, to a group of rocks off the coast where he used to “run away” to when he was little. He’d take his father’s radio and listen to Angels games until it got dark and they finally realized he was gone. Seconds later his father appeared beside him, looking more scared than he ever did when his actual living little boy had run off.

“How long…” Reggie trailed off, not sure of the politically correct way to ask.

“Twenty-two years.”

Somehow, Reggie felt even more empty inside than he actually was. Somehow, he had a horrible feeling of where this was going.

“Massive heart attack,” his father explained, “all of that smoking and drinking finally caught up to me, I guess.”

Blinking rapidly, he tried to decide if he actually really heard what his father just said. One would have thought that becoming abusive to your wife and child would have been the eye opener that the drinking was catching up to you. He literally didn’t know what to say, so he stared ahead at the sea. The rest of the world was still out there, he thought, same as ever. Maybe with some countries having changed, names changed, all sorts of political events he had no idea about. And for some reason here he was, twenty-five years after his death, a young ghost talking to his dead father.

“I’ve been hearing talk of a ghost band,” his father said with a chuckle. “The lifers might be fooled easily, but you guys have a reputation on our side too. Then I saw a clip of you on the news. You’re trending in like three countries right now, you know?”

“Whatever that means,” Reggie muttered. His father never cared about his music before. It was like pulling teeth trying to get him to come to even a short hour-long school concert, let alone come out to a gig when he was alive. He didn’t even want Reggie using speakers when he practiced in his room. Yet now that he was dead and famous, he was impressed? “So…have you been stalking me?”

“No,” he replied quickly. “No, I…just needed to see it for myself. I couldn’t hardly believe it was you, I just…never wanted to see you like that.”

“Successful?” Reggie shot back.

“Dead.”

They looked at each other, and for the first time he truly considered that, as shit as his father was, he had lost his only child at seventeen years old. He was still human; that had to hurt somewhere.

“I could never really say goodbye to you, son,” his father admitted. “I didn’t really feel like I deserved to. It wasn’t until I saw that you were up there, actually a ghost, stuck back here like me…it’s just not what I would have wanted for you.”

Stuck back here like me?

“We’ve only been…here…for a couple of months,” Reggie admitted. “To us, it was like we had just died. We appeared here out of nowhere, thinking it was still 1995. Before then it had just been…a lot of darkness. I don’t know.”

Reggie had to stop himself from going there. The more he thought about the reality of them being trapped in darkness, grieving their own lost lives, for twenty-five years the angrier he felt, the sorrier he felt for himself.

“I still haven’t known what to think of it, to be honest,” Reggie went on. “We assumed we had some kind of unfished business, we’ve been trying to figure out what it is. We thought it might be playing at the Orpheum, but we’re still here. We get stronger every day. Is that just what happens?”

He dared to glance over to his dad for his reaction. His dad looked just as bewildered as he did…were they really sitting here, father to son, talking about… _ghost stuff_?

“I wouldn’t know,” his father finally replied stiffly. “It didn’t work like that for me. I don’t think that’s in the cards for me, I’m just…stuck here.”

For a long moment he studied his father, taking in how faded his complexion was compared to he and his friends or even the ghost back at the Hollywood Ghost Club. The air still felt extra cold and still around his father, even as the wind of the ocean should be hitting them. His voice sounded harsh, even rougher than it used to when he chain smoked and drank around the clock

“So you’re like…cursed?”

His father shook his head.

“No, thank god. I knew better to get wrapped up into any of that magic stuff.” His words stung, and it hit Reggie how stupid it was for them to ever trust Caleb, to ever even go to the Ghost Club. “No, I think this is just…hell, for me. I’m here day after day, year after year. Other ghosts usually can’t even see me, I think we must have just had a stronger connection.”

Reggie couldn’t help but to feel a pang of sympathy for him. He really hadn’t considered that for many ghosts the afterlife wasn’t just all fun and games. Here he was, messing around with curses and fame. At the same time, he wasn’t exactly surprised. What other kind of afterlife would anyone have expected for someone like his dad? And if his dad was implying maybe they should have some kind of father-son ghost relationship…no way.

“I don’t know how to say this but…I really wasn’t all that interested in finding you,” he confessed. “I just really want to move on. I don’t really get any of this, why we’re here, why people can hear us or see us. But it feels _good_. It feels like a second chance. It’s like this is just a whole new life; I know that doesn’t sound like the right thing to say but…”

His father held up a hand; on instinct Reggie flinched, more than he should have, and the hand instantly went back down.

“I’m sorry I’m…I’m way out of line here.” He started to stand up. “You don’t have any reason to want anything to do with me, I get that. I wouldn’t want to be around me for eternity either. I’m not looking for sympathy. God knows this is what I deserve. I had one chance of life. I see people out here, I see _kids_ out here, wondering around, lost souls. I had so much life to do _anything_ with. I was lucky enough to have your mom, to have you. And I just…I destroyed it. I never deserved you. Then to top it off you went and died of food poisoning at seventeen years old. I couldn’t even give my own kid a long and happy life. I let you go out there on your own with that bad, with no money, no help or anything. I couldn’t even tell you to be careful of sketchy LA street vendors. God you guys could have gotten yourselves into _so_ much trouble, and I just let you run away. I didn’t even try to stop you. You should have run from me…I wasn’t good for you.”

Reggie felt himself breathing heavily, which didn’t seem right. The emotional he got, the more alive he felt, and he just didn’t understand. The echoes of the screams of his mother and she desperately tried to keep his father away, as he reached for another drink, as his hand raised, as 12 year old self jumped in front of her, receiving the hit instead of her, pounded in his brain. The amount of times she had caught him cheating, gambling, the way he ruined their house with smoke. He could still remember of the darkness of hiding in his room, the back of the closet, hoping no one realized he was home already. No, he thought, he hadn’t deserved that, neither he nor his mother did. Yet still…how was he just supposed to let his father disappear back into the land of the dead, where he was stuck forever alone, forever regretful?

The same way he hit his own wife and son and let you run away at sixteen years old, a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Luke answered him.

“Dad?” He finally announced, jumping up before his father could disappear. His father stared, waiting. A million thoughts rushed through his minds of different things he could say, but the only one he felt he should say was… “What happened to mom?”

What he wasn’t expecting was his father to shrug casually, as though he didn’t even realize Reggie wouldn’t know. At that moment, Reggie wanted to hit him back more than ever.

“She left me after you died. Moved back home.” There was a beat before he blurted out: “Reggie, as far as your unfinished business goes…your whole life was unfinished business…you were seventeen.”

And with his cold reply his father disappeared, leaving Reggie standing alone. His whole body was tense, like he had subconsciously braced for a fight he realized.

It took him dying for his mother to finally leave and find freedom.

It didn’t even take his dying for his father to realize what a horrible dad he had been, it took _him_ dying to see that.

What exactly was he supposed to do with this new information? They had another gig at that club the next weekend, would his father be there again? Would he always be lingering around, haunting him even in death?

Just when he thought he was finding peace, _this_.

No, he thought, I don’t deserve this.

Reggie was still shaking, he had the faint feeling of his heart pounding though he knew there was no way. The living world moved around him as people wondered through the beach, playing volleyball and taking selfies. A world he didn’t really belong in.

Just moments ago he had never felt more alive than ever, now he had never felt more…gone.

His face was suddenly numb and wet.

He was crying.

Suddenly, Reggie felt like he was raging with emotion. It was like he was riddled with nervous energy; he felt equal parts like he just wanted to curl up under a blanket and have a good breakdown and like he wanted to just…run.

So he did.

Tears streamed down his face as he broke out into a run, well perhaps more like an angry walk, something he had done so much as a living teenager but not yet as a ghost teenager. Who knew you still had all those worked up teenage emotions as a ghost? It just felt _weird_. Was this what most ghosts felt like? His father thought he was living in his own personal hell. Did ghosts just go around, feeling things, being angry, reliving their traumas? That seemed right, right? From all the ghost stories, horror films. Ghosts weren’t supposed to be happy.

It made more sense than coming back just to play in a band.

He followed no path in particular. In the back of his mind he knew the band was wondering where he was, wondering why he couldn’t be bothered to celebrate the success of another great gig with them.

“Hey!” A familiar voice suddenly shouted at him. “Hey…hey, slow down.”

Reggie came to a holt as an actual arm suddenly grabbed at him. Confused, he looked around and found no other than Willie staring back him, his face both bemused and concerned.

“You okay?” Willie asked. Reggie was still so surprised, though as he looked around he realized he was in the neck of the beach Willie tended to hang out at it. He was a bit surprised the ghost even recognized him, if he were honest. “You look…well, a bit like you’ve seen a ghost.”

It was obvious Willie was trying to not laugh at his own joke. With his hair flowing down beneath his shoulders, his skateboard casually resting in his arms, his crooked smile and just an air of warmth about it him, Reggie could see what Alex saw in him. Not that he really understood where the two stood.

“How did the gig go?” Willie asked when Reggie didn’t answer. It might have been an attempt to ask him a calming question- something they used to do when Alex had panic attacks- but he realized they hadn’t seen Willie since the Ghost Club. “Sorry, I’ve been laying low. Caleb has actually been a bit MIA so thought I’d venture out, ran right into you. It’s…Reggie right? You okay?”

Reggie found himself nodding.

“Orpheum…went okay. Yeah, it was good. We got rid of Caleb’s curse, I still don’t really get it.”

His voice was shaky as his eyes danced around, taking in the couples just casually out on a beach stroll all around them. Somehow, he almost felt like he was being watched.

“That’s great!” Willie beamed. “But…I guess you didn’t crossover? You sure you’re okay? Where’s the rest of the band?”

The rest of the band. Right. Luke would be on his post-gig high, jumping around like a child hopped up on candy while Julie usually had a rush of inspiration after a show. Alex would be in a more reflective mood, likely second guessing how he did every second of the gig even though the answer was _amazing_. He couldn’t bring them down with this.

Maybe what he needed was a nice, kind, third party friend.

“I don’t know,” Reggie finally replied, stumbling over his words. “Willie, can I…trust you with something?”

Willie grinned.

“I’ve been told I’m a fantastic listener. Just ask Alex!”

Reggie’s fingers twitched nervously.

“That’s what I mean, I just don’t want the band to know any of this. We’re best friends, we’re…brothers. But there’s some stuff they never knew, ya know?” He waited for a confirmation nod of understanding from Willie before continuing. Drawing a deep breath, he continued: “We played a gig tonight, and my dad was there.”

“Woah…”

“…he was a ghost.”

“…double woah.”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a minute, and nerves rushed through him as he considered that this might be a bit above Willie’s head. After all, the skater boy hardly had any idea of who he was, besides being Alex’s ghost friend. Why should he care?

“How did he…” Willie started to ask, sounding sincere.

“Massive heart attack,” Reggie replied. “Twenty-two years ago.”

“Wow…I haven’t met many ghosts who have been around that long,” Willie confessed. He gave Reggie an odd look, like he could tell it wasn’t a great thing that he saw his dad again. “I’m guessing it wasn’t a happy reunion?”

Shaking his head, Reggie said:

“The last time I saw him alive he…sort of pushed me down the stairs and sprained my ankle,” he confused. Willie’s eyes went wide; whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that severe. “He…wasn’t a great dad. He and my mom fought, a lot. When I intervened…it just escalated.”

He couldn’t stand anymore. Somehow, he felt too weak. Where were all these heightened emotions coming from? Did any of the other guys get like this? He found a bench nearby and the two took a seat, he couldn’t help but to notice that the warmth radiating from Willie’s form grew as they sat nearby. There was just something about him that made him feel like he could literally pour out his soul to him.

“You know you didn’t deserve that, right?” Willie asked. “Fathers shouldn’t hurt their kids. They shouldn’t scream at their wives. You don’t get punished for trying to save your mom. Do the other guys really not know?”

“No,” he felt so stupid even as he confessed it. Who had he been kidding? So many times he claimed he was in fights with bullies or that just…tripped and fell down the stairs. “Alex was going through a lot with his parents after coming out. Luke’s relationship with his was just a mess. I liked being that…rock. For once I could actually help and not just be in the way. But it got a bit out of my hands.”

“You think?” Willie teased sadly. He reached out and placed a hand on Reggie’s shoulder; he flinched, just like he did with his father and he hated it. Willie noticed and quickly put his hand down. “You didn’t deserve any of that. And Alex didn’t deserve his shitty parents either. That’s why you have a band…they’re your family. They’d want to know.”

“Yeah, I know. When Alex and Luke ran away from home I decided to move out. Bobby’s family had plenty of room at their place, and his parents were usually out of town or working. I hated leaving my mom but I really, really thought I was just in the way. That’s just what my life was…I had a terrible home life, joined a band, moved out, and died Something he said keeps bothering me…he said he was given this life, he had a child, he had love. And this is what he did with it. He was awful to his wife, hurt his child, his child died, his wife left, he died. What’s supposed to be the point?”

Willie looked genuinely regretful that he couldn’t answer, and Reggie felt bad that he even put all of this on him.

“Sorry,” Reggie offered. “I know we don’t really know each other. It just seemed like you were really great with Alex, and you know more about this ghost stuff than I do for sure.”

He couldn’t help but to notice Willie’s lips curl up into a sweet smile at the mention of Alex’s name, and Reggie knew for sure the two were definitely more than just friends. Rather they realized it yet or not.

“I know a lot of things,” Willie admitted. As if on cue, a rather bitchy sounding girl who had been talking loudly while drunk-stumbling down the boardwalk suddenly fell flat on her face for no reason. Reggie laughed; god would these powers have been helpful in high school. “But I also led you guys right into Caleb’s trap…and I’ve been wondering around here on my own myself for five years now. I can’t exactly figure out my own unfinished business, except lending a friendly ear and giving some training to ghost newbies.”

“Maybe you’re a bit of a ghost therapist,” Reggie teased. “My dad said something else too. He said…my whole life was my unfinished business. I died when I was seventeen. I…died.”

He wasn’t sure what it was about that night, about that moment, that made everything really hit him. He and his friends…they died. Seventeen years old. Bobby lost all three of them at once which must have been hard, however evil he turned out to be. He couldn’t imagine how messed up he’d be if he were the surviving one.

Wait…now he was even feeling emotional over Bobby?

Suddenly, his head felt very heavy and he doubled over, grasping it in his hands.

“I feel…I feel so much, all of a sudden. It’s almost like I feel pain again, though I know I can’t physically hurt.” he confessed.

“It happens, when ghosts get stronger,” Willie explained. Leaning forwarded, he placed his hand lightly on Reggie’s back, clearly being mindful of triggering any more bad memories. “We don’t really have physiological functions, but we have our mind, our soul. Our body remembers what the pain was like.”

“Yeah, well it sucks.”

Willie smirked.

“It’s good, you know, that you’re working through this stuff. If your life was so unfinished, part of figuring that out sorting through your past. It does suck. It’s terrifying. But lucky for you, you have two good friends who knew you before all this to help you through. And some new ones too. By the way, did he say what happened to your mom?”

“She left him after I died,” Reggie explained. “Took me dying for her to finally get out. She moved back home.”

“Back home? Where’s that?”

“Idaho.”

The two shared a laugh; even Reggie knew how random the truth about where he was born was.

“Idaho might literally be the last place I would have thought you were from,” Willie admitted.

Even as Reggie looked out to the ocean, listened to the familiar sound of waves he had known for years, he had to agree. He still had strong memories of their horse farm, of the smells of fresh cut grass and remembered how the sunrise looked as he woke up at the crack of dawn to do animal chores. They had stayed there until he was eight, when his father got a job offer in California.

 _“We’ll come back one day,”_ his mother had promised. Reggie was sincerely glad that at least she got to.

“We left there a long time ago,” Reggie stated. “Hey…can ghosts like, cross state borders?”

“Totally!” Willie grinned. “I mean, most people want to go to like, Paris or at least New York when they learn that, but Idaho is doable too. It takes a lot of strength, but you can get there.”

Reggie felt a little bit more at ease at least possibly being able to _see_ his mom again. He wanted to at least check up on her, make sure she was okay. That’s what spirits were for, right? Not to mention, he could actually be a ghost horseman, an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

They exchanged understanding smiles, and Willie offered him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“I better get back to the guys,” Reggie said. “Thanks for listening. Alex is really lucky to have found you.”

“Yeah he is.”

He winked at Reggie before he disappeared; the bassist let out a final chuckle before taking a deep breath and disappearing back to the studio.

When he landed, he landed right on the futon between Luke and Alex, who instantly jumped apart.

“Dude!” Luke exclaimed. “Where have you been? We’ve been trying to figure out how to put out like a ghost bat signal for you. Julie and I came up with this killer ballad. She's going to get Flynn to help us- did you know Flynn plays violin? Reggie...you okay? What's up?”

Reggie stared straight ahead, contemplating if he really wanted to take this step. Before he could have too many doubts he blurted out:

“My dad was at that gig.”

The boys leaned forward.

“How did he look?” Alex asked. Reggie had to remind himself that all they knew was that his parents had been on the verge of a divorce. “He had to be like, pretty old by now right? Weren’t your parents older?”

“He was a ghost,” he finally admitted. “My dad is dead.”

“Oh man,” Luke breathed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Reggie…I’m sorry. I’m sorry you found out that way. Did you talk to him? What did he say?”

He was suddenly hyper aware that his hands were shaking and he ran them through his hair, trying to calm down.

“How did he die?” Alex asked slowly.

“Massive heart attack,” Reggie stuttered, “few years after I…a few years after I died.”

His two friends both stared at him, and it was like at the same time all three of them truly realized the significance of those words.

“I’m dead,” he whispered.

There was a long pause before Luke put his arm around his shoulder.

“Yeah man, I know. I’m…I’m sorry.”

Reggie looked at him, feeling a bit sick to his stomach for the first time since they ate the street dogs. He was surprised to find Luke swallowing nervously, pain in his eyes as he confessed:

“I never should have let you guys leave the club! It was my idea to eat those sketchy street dogs. How stupid was I? You guys died because of my stupidty. Our parents had to find out we died over freaking hot dogs, and it’s all my fault.”

He couldn’t help but to wonder then if the other two were starting to feel the same heightened emotions that he had. Alex seemed too, almost as soon as they had come back, which really shouldn’t have been any surprise. But Luke…Luke had just seemed so cool about it all. Had he really been feeling this guilty the whole time?

“No man, we all agreed to it,” Alex said. “None of us were thinking. Other people were eating them too, it was just…really shitty luck.”

“Yeah, we don’t blame you,” Reggie chimed in.

Luke looked a bit relieved, but not too convinced. 

“Yeah, well maybe I should try to find your dad and apologize or something.”

Shaking his head, Reggie insisted:

“I don’t think he’s going to be around much. I only saw him a few minutes, he just said he wanted to see me for himself.”

Alex looked at him suspiciously, and Reggie knew right then it was finally time to confess everything.

“He didn’t want to stay and talk, not even after all these years? Not even after losing you?” The drummer questioned.

Reggie’s head was in his hands again; his headache was somehow getting worse. Was it really true, what Willie said- all these emotions, the physical pain, was it just his mind playing afterlife tricks on him? Torturing him?

“I don’t really have any interest in seeing him either,” he confessed. “Look he…he was a terrible dad.”

“I mean, we know about the arguing,” Luke offered.

“It was more than the arguing.” For some reason his eyes found Alex’s, and the blonde seemed to instantly understand.

“Reggie…”

He didn’t let him finish.

“I had always tried to step in for my mom, you know? But I was just in the way. We started fighting, me and him, more and more the older I got. He had only ever just slapped me, just out of losing control…”

“Christ, how could you not tell us?!” Luke exclaimed, jumping up. He began pacing angrily while Alex remained close by his side. “Now I have to find him. I’m going to kill him, _again_. Why didn’t you ever say anything, we would have gotten you out of there sooner.”

He could only shrug, feeling helpless.

“Things were so bad between you and your mom and Alex, your parents were just…hell. I wanted to be there for you guys, I didn’t want you worrying about me. I could handle him. I really did egg him on, I think.”

“Don’t do that,” Alex warned. “Trust me man, you didn’t deserve any of that. Don’t let yourself think that even for a second.”

Luke suddenly stopped pacing, his face contorting into realization.

“When you moved out…you also ran away, didn’t you? Your ankle was hurt that week, you said you hurt it in gym but I asked people in your class about it and they didn’t know what happened.”

Reggie felt that familiar rush of coldness as he remembered. He could very clearly see the top of his stairs, he could clearly remember accusing his dad of lying about working the extra hours, he was up to something, messing around and his father had shoved him away…but he was too close to the edge of the stairs. He remembered the sharp _knock_ as his head cracked against the wall and the sickening feeling of his ankle twisting. He was lucky he hadn’t hurt it any worse, he was lucky it was only the shorter staircase and not the tall one that went up to his room; he was stupid for even trying to argue with his unstable drunken father that close to the stairs.

“We had been fighting and he pushed me…I was standing to close to the staircase and fell.” Luke swore and pounded one fist against the other hand; Alex looked a bit sick. “I really did-“

“Stop,” Alex pleaded. “Reggie…I wish you had told us. Yeah, all that was going on with my parents too, but clearly I would have understood. We could have helped each other through that.”

“Yeah,” Reggie sighed, leaning back as he rubbed his hands over his face. Why did he feel so tired, so drained energy he didn’t actually have? “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I was really hoping that I could just…forget, you know? Then I saw him and it all came rushing back. He told me what a shit parent he was, if it makes any difference.”

“No, it really doesn’t,” Luke shot. “So what, does he just hang around here now? Because I swear if I see him…”

“He didn’t seem like he was sticking around,” Reggie replied, hoping that was true. “He said being back here was like his own personal hell. I think that’s what he thought it was until I came here too. He seemed to know that all he did with his life was just be an awful person, then he lost his child, then he died…it’s just hard to get the point of it all, you know?”

He really hoped Luke didn’t come back with _our music is the point_ , and was grateful when the singer simply sank back down beside him.

“He said something…” Reggie took a deep breath. “He said, my whole life was unfinished business. We died too young.”

“Real young,” Alex whispered.

Reggie realized his friend must have already come to this realization, and his pained him to know he had been wrestling with that grief alone. How had he been so casual about all of this, so naïve?

“Ever since we broke the curse, have you guys just felt…more?” Reggie asked. “All of these memories are coming back to me, and it’s like I can remember exactly what living them was like. I feel the pain all over again. God, do you think that’s just what the afterlife just is?”

“Surely not,” Alex said, though he didn’t sound so confident.

“Maybe that is the point of having our music,” Luke offered, and Reggie had to bite back an amused grin. “Not to sound like a broken record, pun intended, but music has always helped us escape. Maybe now it’s supposed to help us process all this.”

“Yeah,” the drummer chimed in, jumping up. Luke followed. “Maybe it’s time we acknowledged that we had shitty lives, we had shitty parents…”

“Except me,” Luke cut in, looking heartbroken. “They really weren’t bad, I just…didn’t appreciate what I had. Which is its own kind of pain to live with.”

“Yeah,” Alex echoed again, this time softer, understanding. “Maybe it’s time we recognize our shit lives and that…we died. We’re not really _back_. We don’t know why we’re hanging around but…we might as well finish as much of our lives as we can.”

Luke nodded in agreement, but Reggie still wasn’t sure how to feel. He didn’t like that they were looking at him like he was a lost puppy. He didn’t like this feeling of such great uncertainty. Nevertheless, he found himself being pulled to his feet by Alex.

“Hey boys!” Flynn’s voice suddenly called out. They looked over and grinned in amusement when they saw her waving in the total opposite direction. Julie grinned back at them. “I want to hear this sweet ballad that requires my violin talents. Does this mean I’m finally making a guest appearance in the band?”

The boys disappeared down to the studio floor and picked up their instruments, testing out a few beats so Flynn could see them. Reggie couldn’t help but to smile at the flash of surprise in Flynn’s eyes as they came to sight. That never got old.

“This feels like a good spot,” Flynn said with a smile as she slid into the space beside Reggie. She gave him a funny look, as though she could immediately realize something was wrong. “Everything okay in ghost world?”

It was funny she said ghost world and not afterlife, and he wondered if it really hadn’t hit the girls yet either that they were _dead, dead_. Like, obituary in the paper dead. He had a gravestone somewhere dead. He forced himself to shake away those thoughts.

“Perfectly peachy,” he replied, flashing her a charming smile.

Julie let out a surprise laugh as she noticed the chemistry between them, and he had to force himself to not get too excited. There were some things about the afterlife that could never be, he knew. There were many more things he’d just have to accept he’d never understand, and certainly if there was no obvious meaning to life there wouldn’t be any meaning to the afterlife.

Maybe Luke was right. Maybe it was still okay to just enjoy what they had while they had it. After all, none of this felt like his own personal hell. In fact, until his dad showed up it was almost like…his own personal heaven.

Aside from the crazy evil MIA magician ghost, of course.

“You guys have any ghost plans this week?” Flynn asked as she tuned up.

Reggie almost surprised himself when he casually answered:

“I think I might take a trip to Idaho.” The band looked up at him, bemused. “It’s where I’m from, I think my mom might be back there. Plus, you know, horses, wide open spaces…it would be nice to breathe in that fresh ghost air.”

Flynn chuckled as she rolled her eyes, looking like she somehow wasn’t surprised. Luke and Alex, of course knew that Idaho was home, and they looked pleased he was taking that step.

“Want us to join?” Alex offered.

“Maybe have a bit of a guys trip?” Luke asked, his eyes glimmering with excitement, likely at the thought of getting out of the studio for a bit. “I always wanted to do a road trip…guess this is good enough.”

“Totally!”

After all, maybe the strength of the three of them would give them the most hope of getting there and back in one peace.

He felt his body immediately relax as Julie played her first chords, and his heart swam as Flynn began playing the melody Julie left for her on the music stand. He stole a glance over to his original bandmates, the boys he spent a good chunk of his life with and died beside, and noticed they too just looked totally at peace. Maybe the afterlife had the same balance as actual life, he decided. You had pain, you had those memories and regrets…but he was lucky enough to be going through this with his two best friends. He was lucky enough to still have energy and passion. He wasn’t alone, regretting his entire life and having to relieve day after day what a monster he was. He was still Reggie, the bassist, the best friend, _good person_.

And he really wasn’t gone, was he? He wasn’t done for. It was like his father said.

He was still Reggie…he was just Reggie, the unfinished. 

**Author's Note:**

> This may or may not become a series...I really want to write about Idaho and how home is actually where Reggie's horse is :) Thanks so much for reading!


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